Yesterday's roofing project at Mom's took on an unexpected twist. The attic of the garage came under cleaning attack, and there were scads of photos and old memorabilia we had stuck up there through the years. Old toys were found, faded prom flowers, and for me, there was the box of letters that I had saved from my freshman year in college.
On Fathers Day I would like to share a piece of a letter my ole man wrote me in January of 1970. He wasn't an outwardly sentimental man. He was short and stocky and loved cars and sports and was often mistaken for a football coach instead of the auto parts salesman he was. But....
What do you mean, "Don't forget me." We don't and we won't ever forget you. Every once in a while I look up on the book shelf and say, Hi Punkin, to your picture. Silly ole me. I know you can't hear it.
Dad's been gone since 1982, but I won't ever forget either.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
Belated Father's Day
I'm still wandering through June, 2003, over at my old blog and I found this: